I don't normally post a lot of personal things on here anymore, but I feel as though this is a special occasion. I mean, can you believe it?! Me! Christie "lazy" Brown, has consistently attended the gym for a year today and I am beyond proud of myself. I feel a huge difference in my overall health and well being on top of the physical changes in my body.
I still to this day have a more hate than love relationship with the gym. I want to look sexy, but I hate all the things associated with looking sexy - lifting things, running, eating healthy, straining my 160 year old knees.. I'm just not a fan. But I suck it up, and I get shit done because the results aren't going to come if you don't make them.
For this post to convey what I want it to, I suppose I need to provide a backstory of sorts. This isn't a part of my life that I'm particularly proud of and it's not one that I openly talk about. I've struggled with weight issues for most of my life. All throughout school I was the "skinny girl", and I loved it. I had an amazing metabolism, I played netball twice a week, martial arts, too. I loved when people complimented my legs, I loved when people complimented my stomach, I loved that my friends were all jealous, I loved the attention I got from boys (Ugh. Typing, deleting and then re-typing that last part over and over made me cringe in the worst way). I loved it so much that, without going in to too much detail, I ended up developing various eating and self image disorders. I suppose it had been something that was a long time coming, but it really came to a head at the age of 15 and I struggled all through my teens until I was 20.
With the help of Jesse, who came on to the scene when I hit 20, I sorted myself out. He made me feel beautiful and so I stopped the purging and the starving, I tried my hardest to see myself through his eyes and be happy with what I saw, and I built myself up to a healthy weight.. But then I went too far. Old mate Jesse over here has an amazing metabolism (the bastard). He eats and eats and eats and stays thin. Christie, on the other hand... Christie's metabolism had suffered throughout the abuse I put it through growing up. Christie couldn't eat like Jesse did. We ate crap, and we ate a lot. I gave up martial arts and regular netball due to the aforementioned 160 year old knees, and to be honest, I didn't give 2 fucks about working out at all because I never had to before. It was actually pretty fun - the best year of my life, I reckon. Food is fucking delicious, let me tell you. But then it hit me. I remember when I first realised how big I had become. I looking at photos from my 21st birthday the week after and it hit me. The girl in those photos.. She was as big as she had ever been. I couldn't believe how much my body had changed in the space of a year..
And then came along a whole new set of body image issues.
Going from 45kg with abs akin to those on fitness commercials, to a flabby 69kg who constantly craved (still craves) junk food reeked havoc on my confidence and my self worth. Joining the gym with a friend was the best thing that I could have done. It was hard in the beginning. I found myself having to drag myself to go. If it weren't for her, I doubt I would have bothered, but it eventually became part of my routine, to the point where I'd feel naked had I not worked out on a scheduled day. I started feeling better - physically and emotionally. I started losing weight and I started noticing how much stronger I was. I was happier, and when people started to notice my weight loss, that right there was the best feeling. That right there is what made it all worth it.
In the short year I've attended, I've had my ups and my downs. I tried the diets and counting calories and I actually lost a lot of weight very quickly in doing so, but I wasn't having fun. I couldn't go out with my friends or family for a meal, I couldn't binge on chocolate during "lady times", I couldn't have a snack with Jesse at 10pm. I just wasn't enjoying life. I've since learned that it's all about moderation. I didn't see the point in being so strict on myself that I was unhappy. Sure, the weight loss nowadays isn't as rapid as if I were to eat no more than 1,200 calories a day, but I'm happy. I still eat the foods I like (om nom fries), but in moderation. Life's all about balance, right?
I was actually 1.7kg away from my goal weight at one stage, due to the strict diet, no doubt.. but then Christmas came around. I gained over half of what I had lost back (ohai, Italian family) and then I plateaued. No matter how hard I pushed, I wasn't getting the results. I wasn't gaining weight, but I wasn't losing any either. I lost my drive and my motivation, but I still soldiered on. I'm still 6kg away from that goal weight today, but I'm determined.
At the end of the day, it's all about how you feel and guess what? I feel great.
I'm happier in my own skin and I'm definitely healthier. I'm stronger than I have ever been and I am so incredibly proud of my achievements, no matter how small. I will reach my goal weight eventually and until then, I'm going to enjoy the journey.
